


A Colorful Family Reunion

by RIpig



Category: Spy vs Spy
Genre: Death, Fight Scenes, This is gonna get weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RIpig/pseuds/RIpig
Summary: You ever pondered why these two needle-nosed spies don't look exactly look like any one else? Why these two dimwits seem to face each other more-so than any other agents from the opposite side? And do you think there might be others? Yeah, summery sucks, and this is probably gonna be a short one.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a project that is quite old and has been floating on my USB for quite some time. And this was just an idea to at least give something other than the old plot of, 'I hate you, let's screw each other until our eyes fall out of our sockets.'. This might end up a short one anyway; under 10 chapters, or maybe 5. 
> 
> Anyway, everyone belongs to Antonio Prohias.

The sounds of brass and bass threatened to blow the walls to bits as the audience cheered and clapped along to the upbeat song. A stranger in black carefully traversed through the maze of tables and smoke until he made his way to the bar, a grizzled bartender taking a swig from a bottle. The stranger tapped two fingers onto the surface, causing the bartender to nod and jerk a thumb to a door just to the left of the bar, prompting the stranger to tip his hat and head towards the door. With the turn of the knob, the stranger unleashed more smoke as he barged into a small room, three men staring at him as cigarettes and cigars idly burned. “Well, about time you got here,” one man said as he gestured to the free seat, “I know these places aren’t your scene, but remember the motto; habits kill.” 

The stranger in black only grunted as he waved the smoke away. “Anyway,” The first man said, “You got the info, right?” The stranger reached into his trench coat and pulled out a file, pushing it towards the man as he snatched it up and ripped the lip off. “Nice, real nice.” He said as he and the other two glanced over the papers, “Your agency wasn’t lying that you’re the best.” The stranger grunted again, and then tapped his palm. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your money,” The man assured as he slid the papers inside, “And I’ll make sure to give you guys a little something special.” The stranger nodded in approval, then stood up to leave. 

“Hey!” A second man said as he stood up and grabbed the stranger’s shoulder, “What’s the rush? C’mon, stay for a drink!” But the stranger shook his head and rushed towards the door, only to be yanked back into the second man’s grip. “I said stay, so stay.” He ordered. 

“Give him a break, Dakota.” The first man said, “He’s probably paranoid of staying in one spot for a long time.” 

“Oh what’s the big deal, St. Paul?” The third asked, “What? A bunch of hit men are gonna break in and shoot us into swiss cheese?” 

“More or less,” St. Paul said as he stood up and separated Dakota and the stranger, “And I don’t wanna get caught in the crossfire when shit hits the fan.” The stranger tipped his hat and headed out, trying to ignore Dakota’s outburst. As the stranger made his way to the front door, the band had finished their set and the audience whistled and applauded, making the stranger sneer. 

“Tone-deaf nimrods.” He muttered quietly as he pushed through the door, greeted by the cold night air and the chatter of waiting guests. “Of all the places to drop info off, it had to be in a hole in the wall.” He continued to grumble, “I’m not asking for an up-class joint, just something better than that.” As he grumbled, he failed to realize that someone was staggering after him, stumbling to and fro with no audience to watch his drunken dance. The stranger sighed and stopped a moment to dig a packet of cigarettes out, giving the drunk a chance to catch up, but lost the element of surprise when the stranger turned his head to see the spectacle advanced for him. “What do you want, punk?” The stranger asked. 

“Jus’ a light.” He replied as he pulled out a crumpled cigarette box. The stranger produced a lighter and the drunk draped his hand over it, blindly clasping at the metal lid. “Thanks man.” He said as he flicked the lighter on, lighting what cigarettes remained in the box. But the stranger’s eyes widened when he realized that the cigarettes were sparking instead of burning. “On second thought,” The drunk said, suddenly standing straight, “Smoking kills!” He then threw the burning pack at the stranger, which in turn had grabbed a garbage lid, slammed it down on the bomb, and backed away as it exploded and sent the lid flying. 

“You got a lot of nerve pulling that trick, White!” The stranger in black said as he pulled out his pistol.

“Just as you had a lot of nerve selling those plans, Black!” The drunkard said as he pulled his mask off and produced his own pistol. 

“Why is it that scum like you always follow me?” Black snarled. 

“Maybe it’s your personality, maybe it’s your fashion sense,” White suggested, “Personally, I think it’s because you look exactly like a garbage can.” 

“Nice insult,” Black grumbled, “Did you get that of the back of a cereal box?” 

“I probably got it at the same dump you get your suit.” White retorted. 

“How original, you used garbage jokes twice in a row,” Black said, “Go for three, and you get a free toaster in your bathtub.” 

“A thing like you isn’t allowed to talk about originality!” White spat, “You used my electrified spaghetti trap twice this month!” 

“That was after you used my club traps three times last month!” Black argued. 

“Hey, are you two gonna kill each other or what?” A voice asked as the two looked to the source to find a man looking similar to them, clad in a tomato red leather jacket, black slacks, red boots, and a red trilby. 

“This doesn’t concern you,” White said, “Move along.” 

“It does, actually.” Red said as he pulled out a shot gun, “I have orders to kill you bastards, and I’m tired of waiting. So…shut up and die.” The red stranger pulled the trigger as both Black and White dived out of the way of the spray. “C’mon, die already!” Red moaned as he reloaded, “I’m so flipping bored!” He turned to Black and aimed as Black struggled to pull something out to defend himself. But before Red could pull the trigger, a bottle was smashed on his head. 

“You don’t get to kill that bastard!” White exclaimed as he threw the bottle remains away and quickly pulled out a wire, looping it around Red’s neck and pulled back. “Little amateurs like you are pain in my side!” He grumbled as he choked Red to death. 

“Hey, save me a piece!” Black exclaimed as he picked up the discarded shotgun and jammed the barrel into Red’s chest. “Any last words?” He asked. 

“Come home.” Red uttered, and Black pulled the trigger, exploding Red’s chest in a spectacular splatter of blood, muscle, and bone. 

“What the hell?” White asked as he dropped the body, “Why didn’t you push him?” 

“He was pushing my buttons already,” Black said as he dropped the gun, “And I am not in the mood to figure out a bunch of cryptic bull.”

“Don’t you think it’s kinda strange?” White admitted, “What would he mean by ‘come home’?”

“I said I wasn’t in the mood!” Black exclaimed, “I’m going home.” 

“Wait, what about-?” White started, but Black was already walking away. White glanced back at Red’s body, then took a camera out. “Well, if you’re not curious, then I am.” He muttered as he started to take pictures. 

//

The next day, White was standing in front of his commander as he looked over the newly developed photos. “So you say this interloper had opened fire on you and the black operative, and before he was executed, he said something about ‘coming home’.” The commander retold.

“Yes Commander,” White replied, “What strikes me is that this interloper looks like…well, both the black operative and myself.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about this interloper, White.” The commander said as he ripped up the pictures, “He’s dead now. Just focus your attention on the black operative and your missions.” 

“But sir…” White spoke up, only to earn a glare from his commander. “Yes sir.” He said as he saluted. 

“Very good, White.” The commander said as he pulled out a file, “You have another job; go to the piers and intercept the black operative from retrieving plans from their contact. You will be supplied with a special breathing apparatus in case you have to go under water, but as usual, use whatever tricks you have to outwit that half-wit. Got it?” 

“Yes sir.” White replied. 

“Failure will not be tolerated.” The commander finished, “Dismissed.” With another salute, White walked out of the office and down the hall. With a sigh, he produced another photo of the Red man, looking over his face with concern and curiosity. 

“Why?” He asked quietly, “None of this makes sense. Is this the Black Organization’s clone? A new organization? A rogue agent just copying us?” As he tuned over the options over and over in his heads, an eruption of gunfire and screams pulled his attention towards the lobby. Running over and pressing his back against the wall, he slowly opened the door and sank down, crawling on his body towards a desk with a trembling receptionist. “Is it Black?” He asked. 

“No, he’s blue!” The receptionist whispered, “He took Sherry!” 

“Is he here?” A new voice asked, making White peer over the edge to see yet another look alike in a blue suit, and matching fedora, a somber look on his face as he held a woman by her black hair and a revolver pressed against her temple. “I’m tired of asking over and over,” He continued, “I want at the very least directions to White. But if no one wants to tell me, I will splatter this innocent woman’s brains across the wall and that painting; it would be a shame for such a piece to be ruined. One, two-.” 

“Wait!” White shouted as he sprang from his hiding place. The blue stranger instantly let go of the woman as he began to stagger towards White. 

“Is it really you?” Blue asked, hands clasped in joy, “My dear brother, White?” 

“I-I’m not your brother,” White said, “But I want to know who sent you!” 

“Father, of course,” Blue replied, “He wants you to come home; he misses you so much. You, and Black.” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” White said as he produced his own gun, “But I’ll make sure you’re six feet under, like the rest of them.” Blue looked at White’s gun, then sighed and produced a handkerchief and blotted his eyes. 

“I don’t want to fight you, honestly.” The attacker said, “I mean, I just found out that there are two brothers that should’ve been home a long time ago, and you have no idea how ecstatic I was. But, father did say that you are to come back home, either on your two feet, or in a body bag, so let’s see how this goes.” He shot at White, but he dove and flipped a couch over, wincing as another bullet blasted through the wood and cotton. “Come on,” Blue said, “I hate to know my brother is a coward.” 

“I am NOT your brother!” White shouted as he fired on Blue, hitting him in the shin and making him stagger a bit. He squeezed out another shot and hit Blue in the shoulder, making him drop his gun and ultimately drop to the floor. “Look, I don’t know what delusional dip told you all this jazz,” White said as he walked over to the bleeding attacker, “But there is no way in hell we’re related.”

“Deny that all you want,” Blue uttered quietly, “But I know we are brothers, and father wants you and Black to come home. I want you to come home, very badly. You have no idea how annoying our siblings are to me; Red just keeps destroying my guns, Green turns my paintings into targets, and don’t get me started on Yellow! Please, I don’t care if I die, just please come home! Please!” But White only shot him in the head, watching the corpse collapse to the floor. White sighed, tried to wipe away the blood on his jacket, and started to head out. 

“Make sure the morgue keeps the body until I get back,” He said, “And sorry for the mess.” 

/

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

Later that night, Black hissed as he jogged to the piers, cursing that his car had broken down three miles back and ended up taking a wrong turn somewhere. “Damn it, the commander is gonna have my head for this!” He grumbled, “White probably did this, freaking jerk!” He ran along the docks until he found the numbered pier and ran down, nearly tripping and falling over near the end. “Hey, I’m here.” He gasped out, “Sorry, had car trouble.” He slowly regained his regular breathing and straightened up, and soon realized the entire scene was off. The person standing at the end of the pier was not the man he was expecting, but a woman in a long, yellow dress with a large skirt, swaying back and forth while staring out to the ocean. But the worst fact Black reasoned was this stranger was humming ‘Frere Jaques’ softly as they stared out to the dark ocean. “Hey, who the hell are you?!” Black shouted, “White, is this some sort of sick thing!?” 

“Black, is that you?” A feminine voice said as the stranger turned around, “It is you! I was afraid Father was lying!” She stepped into the glow and revealed to look almost like Black, only a mop of brown curls bounced with her swaying. Black nearly winced at seeing someone with his face dressed like a yellow short-hand Southern Belle, complete with a lacy parasol being twisted in her white gloved hands. 

“D-don’t tell me you’re my contact tonight.” Black uttered, “I’m already dealing with another pointy-nosed bastard.” 

“Now, that’s no way of talking to your little sister,” The woman cooed, “I wanted to meet you for so long ever since Father described you, and looking at you makes me want to take you home sooner!” 

“Where is my contact?” Black demanded. Yellow’s lips twisted into a sneer, then stepped aside and revealed a man behind her, his back having large holes with a bloodied parasol sticking straight out of one of them. 

“Your damned contact,” She said, “Dead on the wood like a miserable cockroach. As for those plans you so desperately wanted…” She then tipped her small top hat, and a manilla folder sprang from the hole. “I want to make a deal,” She said, twirling a stray curl in her finger, “To get these papers, you have to come home and see father once more. And he doesn’t care how you come back; alive, dead, whole, or a part.” 

“How about I just take those plans off of your corpse?!” Black shouted as he pulled a machine gun out and opened fire on the yellow interruption. She moved her parasol in front of her and the bullets bounced off as she crouched, she then pulled a trigger, and her parasol sprang ahead of her, ramming itself into Black and pushing him back. He scrambled to get his gun, but Yellow was quicker as he watched a high heel kick his weapon into the drink, feeling something cold press into his temple. 

“Now, are we going to be a nice big brother and follow commands?” Yellow uttered, “Or do I have to drag your body in a hand bag?” Black growled as he tried to think of a plan, then it hit him.

“Fine,” He said, raising his hands up, “I’ll meet this ‘father’ or whomever.” Yellow squealed in glee as she hopped up and down. 

“You have no idea how happy you made me!” She exclaimed, “Father is going to praise me for the rest of my life!” He stood up as she produced a communicator from her dress, then smirked as one of his smoke bombs dropped from the inside of his coat, its thud making her turn around. He kicked it towards her, and the round thing exploded into a thick cloud, giving him time to dive into the water and take shelter under the pier. “You little sneak!” She exclaimed, “Toying with my hopes and trying whatever to slink away! You’re very lucky I want to hunt you down!” He could only wait anxiously as he heard her heels clop away over his head and down the pier, eventually disappearing. He slowly pulled himself from under the pier and hoisted himself up, seeing the yellow maniac was nowhere. 

He sighed and wrung out his coat, muttering, “This is getting silly.” 

“You said it.” A voice uttered above him, making him look to see yet another copy in a tank top and a green jumpsuit drop down from the lamppost. He whipped out a gun and pointed it at the green-clad copy. “Whoa, slow your roll, bro.” She uttered. 

“I am not your brother!” Black spat as he pulled the trigger, only to be met with the fact that his gun was ruined from his nightly soak. 

“Gun maintenance 101,” She chuckled, “Guns hate water. But hey, I’m waving a white flag here, peace, bro.” 

“Bullshit!” Black barked as he quickly produced a switchblade knife, “You’re probably a part of White’s schemes!” 

“Naw,” Green replied, raking a hand through black, greasy hair, “Though we gotta get White too. But this is dad’s plan; a family reunion! C’mon, don’t you wanna meet him, at least?” 

“Like hell I do!” Black argued, making Green sigh and pull a length of hair into a knot. 

“C’mon, you haven’t even met the guy.” She uttered, “He’ll probably be nice to you. I mean, he has his off days and kills some of us accidentally, but I know he loves us.” 

“Just piss off, you freak.” Black snarled, making Green sigh again. 

“Oh well,” She said as she got into a stance, “As dad said, ‘on his two feet, or in a body bag.’.” Black shouted and lunged at the green stranger, only for her to lean away and smash his arm, instantly disarming him and leaving him to hiss in pain as he held his limp arm. “And dad said you two were the ultimate.” She said as she recovered, “Oh well, even ultimates have off days I guess.” He charged and tried to kick her, but Green grabbed his leg and swung him over, smashing his face against the wooden boards, and then was swung back and hit the back of his head. He grunted as he tried to sit up, his opponent just staring at him with a bored expression. “You’re not exactly doing aces here, bro.” She uttered as she pulled her hair into another knot, “Want me to give you a freebie?” 

“Piss off.” He hissed, as he stood up, blood dripping down his face. She shook her head and did a spinning jump kick, Black ducking and grabbing her leg, leaving her to stagger. He threw her into the ocean and began to retreat, holding his broken arm as he kept his gaze at the end, only to see Yellow slowly step into the light. 

“Found you!” She cried as she charged towards him with her parasol ahead. A splash made him look back to see Green had pulled herself from the waters and glaring at him. He looked back at Yellow to see the parasol had sprouted spikes on the surface, guaranteeing a death for her. He glanced back at Green to see she was running towards him as well, hands ready to break something else. Black kept looking back and forth, then smirked as another smoke bomb dropped from his coat, erupting another thick cloud and enveloping Yellow, Green, and Black in smoke. Black crouched down and tripped Yellow, prompting a yelp and was quickly followed by a pained grunt. The smoke cleared and it was revealed that Green had been stabbed many times over on Yellow’s needle parasol, her body twitching as blood dropped like rain onto the old wood. Before Yellow could react, Black produced an ice pick and quickly stabbed her in the neck multiple times until the pick was too slick to hold. He was left to stare at the twin sisters, feeling more and more uneasy until his legs gave out and he plopped into a seated position. 

“This is to much.” He uttered, “It’s nothing…nothing at all.” 

“This is definitely something.” A familiar voice said, making Black grimace and struggle to turn to see White behind him, both hands in his pockets and his usually pristine coat stained with old blood. 

“Great, first two crazy broads try to kill me and convince me I’m their brother,” Black spat, “And now you’re here. Just hurry up and shoot me in the head or whatever.” 

“I’m a little more concerned about those corpses in front of you.” White said as he bypassed Black and started to photograph the bodies. 

“Are you still convinced there’s something about these nutjobs and us?” Black asked, “It’s just a bunch of copy cats, and it’s really grating on my nerves.” 

“And what about the constant conversation of ‘coming home’ and something of them being our siblings?” White pointed out, “This is more than mere imitation.” 

“They…they’re just getting into our heads…” Black reasoned, wincing as the pain in his arm is growing worse. 

“Well, you can deny it all you want, but I’m convinced there’s something going on.” White said as he slipped his camera back into his coat. “And you’re not the only one getting attacked; a blue copy stopped by my agency and tried to kill everyone just to find me. And let me ask, did either of these ladies say something of bringing us back either on our own two feet or in a body bag?” Black’s eyes widened, and White hummed. “I will take that as a yes.” He said, “So do you agree that there is something so determined to capture the both of us?” 

“I don’t know, okay?!” Black exclaimed, “This is supposed to be like usual! I kill you, you kill me, har har, drink, smoke, repeat! And now, what?! Random copy-cats just jumping up and claiming that they’re long lost family and trying to kill us both!? What do we do from now? Go back to usual? Try to figure it out and risk being labeled as traitors or worse?! What…what is…damn it!” He kicked one of the bodies, and the two corpses slid into the water, Black squeezing his eyes shut as tears threatened to ooze through the cracks, while White stared on, feeling a little sorry for his counterpart. “What do we do?” Black asked quietly. 

“Don’t know what to tell you,” White admitted, “Going back to the usual might put our respective sides in danger from imitator attacks. Trying to get to the bottom of this without all the facts will not only jeopardize our careers, but waste a lot of time and potentially leave us with nothing.” 

“Then what?!” Black asked, his voice cracking.

“Just calm down, alright?” White said as he cautiously approached his rival, “I’m sure that our agencies will have to listen to us after…this. We both failed tonight because of an outside force, so our leaders have to listen to us and hopefully believe us. For now, get patched up and we’ll try for tomorrow, alright?” 

“Alright.” Black accepted reluctantly, “I mean…how the hell am I gonna explain why I failed to my boss? ‘Gee, sorry boss, but some crazy bitch with my face stabbed the hell out of my contact and stole the plans!’. Aw shit, I just kicked the plans into the ocean.” 

“Let’s just go Swiss tonight,” White suggested, “Alright?” 

“I guess.” Black answered, and the two started to walk away, unknowingly being watched. 

“My, my,” Grey uttered as she pulled away from her binoculars, “My two favorite targets, now part of a conspiracy. And I thought they didn’t have anything worthwhile.”   
//

The next morning, Black was standing miserably in front of his boss as the large man in question stared him down. “So, the reason we don’t have the plans is because two people who looked like you came in, killed the contact, destroyed the plans, and try to kill you.” He recapped, “Am I hearing this right, agent?” 

“Yes sir.” Black said, looking down at his arm in a sling. 

“And you think you and your opponent are being hunted down by some third party, just to meet a supposed father?” The black leader asked. 

“Yes sir.” Black responded, bracing for his leader’s fury. The leader glared at his operative, then stood from his desk, walked to the other side and forced Black to look into his eyes. 

“You need to follow me, now.” He said, gripping Black’s nose and making him squirm. He pulled the smaller man along as he tipped a flower vase to the side and caused a panel of the wall to slide up to reveal a stairwell. The two walked down to a small room, occupied with a large screen, a wall of computers, and a lone man that tapped away in front of the large screen. The screen in question depicted the scene from last night, right at the part where Black was being thrown around by Green. “You do know we’re always watching you, right?” The leader asked as he let go of Black’s nose. 

“Yes sir,” Black said, “But this means you believe me, right?” 

“I do believe you,” The leader said, “It’s just that I don’t care.” Black’s hope dribbled away as the clip continued, speeding up to the point where Black was conversing with White. “What I do care is that you’re willing to communicate with the opposition, and in such a state no less.” He continued, “I don’t care how broken you are, you are to damage the White organization so we can get ahead! And that includes killing your counterpart, even with a bum arm!” He jabbed a finger into Black’s arm for emphasis, making him hiss and shut his eyes. “If you’re getting this soft, maybe we should let you go.” 

“No sir, please!” Black begged, “I’ll shape up for the next mission!” 

“That’s what I like to hear, but can you cash what check your mouth just made?” The Leader snarled. 

“Hey, it’s none of my business sir,” The computer man spoke up as he spun around, “But ease up on the guy. I mean, this is legally a blind-sided attack, and Black is very lucky to make it out with a broken arm. This might also endanger our existence if there is a third party trying to intervene with our missions.” The leader pulled out a pistol and shot the man, making him fall to the ground dead. 

“And that’s what happens to those who don’t know or respect their place.” The leader said, “Now you better high-tail it to the air fields; a very important target for the White Organization is on their way today, and I need you to take them out by any means necessary. And you better not screw up, understood.” 

“Y-yes sir.” Black said, wincing at his studder. 

“Get out.” The larger man ordered, and the smaller man was scrambling up the stairs. The Leader sighed and turned back to the screen, then walked over to the keyboard and tapped a key, rewinding the clip back to when Black was between Yellow and Green. “Guess we held on to them for too long.” He uttered, “Wonder how many are gonna die this time.”   
//

To be continued


End file.
